Bus FAIL (Part XXXVII)

I was out at the bus stop, this morning, with plenty of time before either the regular 6 or the 6 Limited (which starts its route at my stop) were to come by.

There must have been something going on at the Business School, as there was a slightly larger crowd of suited students than usual for non-summer months (when the bus only runs once an hour).

When the Limited pulled up (empty), people filed on and filled it to capacity. The driver refused any more passengers, leaving about a dozen of us standing out in the 10-degree weather.

We twelve stood there, watching the bus pull away. A couple of the left-behind business students looked as if they were standing on the deck of the Titanic, watching the last lifeboat leave.

We waited for the regular 6, which ought to have arrived within two minutes.

We waited... and waited... and waited.

After about ten minutes, I finally called Bloomington Transit and asked where the bus was. I was told that one of the busses was "having problems" and would be around as soon as they could send one.

So, we waited until the next Limited came by, on its regular schedule.

All in all, I stood out there for half an hour, and by the time I got into my office, I was shaking so violently it took two tries to unlock the door.

Cold moon

I was laying on the sofa, this evening, keeping warm beneath a down throw and my laptop, when the rising full moon peeked through the vertical blinds on the back sliding door.

I ventured forth from the warmth of my little sofa-nest, and stood there, gazing through the (poorly insulated) glass.

It was amazing! It bathed everything in a blue light, and reflected off the dusting of snow to make even the frozen mud look beautiful.

After a minute or so, however, I realized that it was Very Cold by the back door, and the draft was making the stray hairs around my face move around, slightly. So, I shut the blinds as tightly as possible.

Driving home from my friend's house, later at night, the moon was almost directly overhead. I felt as though my entire car was glowing in the dark. As I pulled down the street to get to my neighborhood, I noticed that I could see the entire cross country field, a quarter mile away, bathed in the frosty light.

I wanted to stand outside and gaze at it, some more... but even this north coast girl knows when it's just too cold to do that for any length of time.

On a related note... I am puzzled at the fact that it is that the temperature outside is a steady 8F degrees, yet the ice cream that I made earlier, and set out on the balcony for several hours, is still the consistency of a melted milkshake?